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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26819599">But at Least We're Having Fun</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhilosopherStrawberry/pseuds/PhilosopherStrawberry'>PhilosopherStrawberry</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dance Gavin Dance (Band), Hail The Sun (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Robots &amp; Androids, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Costume Parties &amp; Masquerades, Gen, Mythical Beings &amp; Creatures, One Shot Collection, Robots</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 10:02:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,760</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26819599</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhilosopherStrawberry/pseuds/PhilosopherStrawberry</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Some stories are just more interesting than others.<br/>--<br/>An ongoing anthology of DGD one shots named after songs by other swancore bands.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. If You Were a Robot You'd Tell Me, Right?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Sometimes I see song titles and immediately feel like it'd be poor form to not use them for my own work. This is a collection of all the times this has happened, as well as a reservoir of concepts that can always be expanded upon if I ever run out of ideas for longer works (which I doubt will ever happen, but who knows). Also, if you're looking for new music to listen to, know that any song that I name a piece after, as well as the band that wrote it, comes highly recommended.</p><p>Anyway, enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Suddenly, the excessive lineup changes are starting to make a lot more sense.<br/>--<br/>Jon's a robot. Tilian's questioning his career choices.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Title taken from track 5 of The Seafloor Cinema's debut album, A Metaphor for Honesty.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tilian didn’t really expect anything to come of his stint as Dance Gavin Dance’s touring clean vocalist.</p><p>On the phone, Matt and Will had made it sound temporary, like they were only even asking Tilian because they’d already gotten turned down by everyone else they knew. Really, Tilian would still go as far as to say that they’d guilted him into the tour, considering how desperate not to lose it they seemed.</p><p>Of course, Tilian had heard about what happened on The All Stars Tour. It would’ve been something of a feat if he hadn’t, since news in the scene travels pretty fast. He’d felt bad about it, sure, knew firsthand how badly a vocalist leaving could cripple a band, but it wasn’t something he spent too much time thinking about.</p><p>As he sat there in the studio, though, working on <em>Material Me</em>, he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe he should’ve.</p><p>Earlier in his life, before he’d had more than his fair share of ill-fated experiences with being in a band, Tilian would’ve taken Matt and Will’s offer in a heartbeat. Unfortunately, those days were long gone, and as much as he wanted to believe that it’d be different with DGD, the past had taught him that, when it came to music, he could only really trust himself.</p><p>Still, Tilian had to admit that the opportunity to get out of the studio for a bit and tour again was tempting, and the longer he talked with Matt and Will, the more he remembered about how fun it’d been to tour with DGD back when he was fronting Tides of Man. The parties, the energy, that time he got on stage while DGD were sound checking and sang one of their songs…</p><p>When it came down to it, Tilian did end up agreeing to do the tour, albeit reluctantly. He told himself that it was a one-time thing, just a chance to put himself back out there and show that he wasn’t as much of a homewrecker as his reputation might’ve suggested.</p><p>That was the plan, anyways.</p><p>To the surprise of them all, including Tilian himself, the tour went off without a hitch. The vibe was good, and Tilian got along well with DGD’s other members, creating and reigniting friendships that quickly strengthened in the close quarters that comes with touring in a van. It was like he’d finally found the place he belonged and the people he was supposed to be there with.</p><p>As a matter of fact, by the end of the tour, the only person that Tilian really felt disconnected from was DGD’s famed unclean vocalist, Jon Mess. He’d never had the chance to meet Jon back during the Squash the Beef Tour, seeing as he’d been on leave from DGD at the time, but Tilian had heard more than enough rumors of just how strange Jon was.</p><p>And, after this tour, Tilian didn’t find himself disagreeing with them.</p><p>Jon was extremely quiet and distant, especially around Tilian, though seemingly all of his interactions with anyone on the tour, even bandmates he’d known for years, were…well, socially awkward would be an understatement. His conceptions of social norms seemed to range from limited to nonexistent, lacking any and all notions of subtly and nuance in the way he acted and spoke. More than anything else, though, he just didn’t seem to care how anyone else perceived him, whether they judged him or berated him or laughed at him.</p><p>Tilian couldn’t help but find it kind of endearing, in a way.</p><p>Personal feelings aside, it was also undeniable to Tilian that he and Jon were electric when it came to performing. They played off each other perfectly, two sides of the same coin, and it was the sheer rush that playing shows with DGD gave him that eventually forced Tilian to realize something that went against all of his prior inhibitions: He didn’t want the tour to end.      </p><p>Thankfully, everyone else seemed to feel similarly, because now he’s a permanent member of the band, booked to go back on tour with them and then hit the studio to record an album.</p><p>So, things seem to be looking up for once.</p><p>#</p><p>Tilian’s lugging his bags on to the tour bus when Will pulls him aside to talk.</p><p>It’d been a surprise, albeit a welcome one, to learn that they’d been upgraded from a van to a bus between this tour and the last. From what Tilian understood, it was a something of a show of good faith from Rise, a thank you gift to the band for landing a new clean vocalist so easily.</p><p>Though now Tilian’s starting to think that maybe they’d all gotten too comfortable too quickly.</p><p>“What’s up?” Tilian asks once Will's led him behind the bus, away from any prying eyes. He still has a duffle bag slung over his shoulder and a smaller suitcase in his hand, the strap and handle digging somewhat painfully into his skin.</p><p>Will doesn’t respond immediately, just looks at Tilian like he’s sizing him up before proceeding to nod to himself in seeming confirmation. “I have to tell you something about Jon.”</p><p>“He can’t tell me himself?” Tilian asks before he can stop himself. There’s a strange edge to his voice, something like lingering resentment or frustration making his words colder, harsher.  </p><p>Will quirks an eyebrow, though his expression remains neutral. “I just thought it’d be easier this way. Do you want me to go get him?”</p><p>Tilian sighs deeply, closes his eyes for a moment in an attempt to center himself. “No, I’m sorry. What were you gonna say?”</p><p>Will regards Tilian again, as if his outburst has Will reconsidering everything. “Jon’s a robot,” Will eventually says, in the same casual tone one would use when talking about the weather.</p><p>“What?” The statement’s so out there that Tilian’s having a hard time even grasping it, wonders for a minute if he didn’t hear Will right. Then he starts rationalizing, because it’s the only logical thing he can do. “Is this some kind of hazing thing? Shouldn’t you have done this on the last tour?”</p><p>“This isn’t a joke,” Will says, unphased. “We didn’t want to tell you until we were sure you’d be a good fit for the band. If it wasn’t obvious, this isn’t information that we can just go around telling everyone.” There’s a beat of silence, and Will shoots Tilian a pointed look. “Is this gonna be a problem?”</p><p>Tilian blinks, waits for a punchline that never comes. “Uh…no?” he replies after a couple more seconds pass, unsure whether he’s trying to convince Will or himself. Nothing about this conversation's made much sense, and right now all Tilian wants is for it to be over.</p><p>“Good,” Will says, more serious than Tilian can ever remember seeing him.</p><p>#</p><p>Tilian does with what Will told him the same thing that he does with most things that people tell him: ignores it until it becomes an issue.</p><p>And this works fine for just about the first week of tour, everyone adjusting to being on the road again. They hit two shows on the west coast then begin moving steadily east, hoping to loop back around and end where they started. Because of this, they’re deep in the Midwest before too long, each state similar enough to the next that they all blur together. So, Tilian’s not even sure what city they’re in when they arrive at that night’s venue, just starts going through the motions and eventually ends up with a lot of extra time on his hands and no way to spend it.  </p><p>The show’s not for another couple hours, and, being vocalists, Tilian and Jon have the privilege of being able to opt out of sound checking. Due to this, they’re hanging out together in the venue’s green room, which is actually pretty nice for once. The room’s spacious enough that all of the members of DGD can be in there together without being on top of each other, and it’s furnished with a couch and a couple of armchairs. A gift from the venue, a cheap bottle of champagne with a bow wrapped around the neck, is sitting on a coffee table near the middle of the room.</p><p>Tilian’s perched on one of the arms of the couch, watching intently as Jon paces back and forth in front of the coffee table, talking fast and gesturing wildly. That’s the thing that Tilian’s noticed the most about Jon: Usually he’s quiet and awkward, but give him the opportunity to talk about something he’s passionate about and he’ll go on for hours. It doesn’t bother Tilian, though. If anything, it’s pretty entertaining.</p><p>“It doesn’t make any sense,” Jon’s in the middle of saying, stopped for a moment in his endless pacing to look directly at Tilian. “Because, like-” As he continues to speak, Jon throws his left arm out in a wide arc over the coffee table.</p><p>Right where the bottle of champagne is.</p><p>The whole thing happens so fast that Tilian feels like he doesn’t even process it properly at first. All he sees and hears is glass shattering, and he’s moving before his brain even catches up enough to formulate an exclamation of surprise. “Holy shit, Jon!”</p><p>Jon doesn’t answer, seems frozen in time as he just stares blankly at his hand. The silence, the lack of any kind of pain response, is unsettling, like something in Jon’s brain just broke or shut off.</p><p>“Are you alright?” Tilian asks when he reaches Jon, one hand going for Jon’s shoulder while the other reaches for his left wrist. “Let me see-”</p><p>Tilian’s pretty sure he stops breathing for the initial moment that he really catches sight of Jon’s hand.</p><p>There’s no blood, which is an observation that starts off as a relief but quickly becomes disturbing as soon as Tilian realizes why. Several shards of glass are embedded in the back of Jon’s hand, and it’s shaking from the wrist down, fingers spasming every couple seconds as sparks erupt from the wounds in short bursts.</p><p>Out of his peripheral vision, Tilian can see the broken champagne bottle still on the coffee table, and notices something else unexpected. He’d assumed the bottle had smashed after being knocked over, but it's actually remained standing, the top half of it jaggedly scattered all over the room. Jon had hit it with so much force that his hand had effectively gone right through the glass.</p><p>As he’s taking this all in, Tilian imagines that he must look something like a fish out of water, mouth opening and closing pointlessly, mind reeling. He only snaps out of this state when he hears a sharp gasp from the entrance to the green room, which is soon followed by quick, deliberate footsteps.</p><p>Tilian lets himself be forced out of the way when Will reaches him and Jon, even going so far as to take another few steps backward of his own accord. Feeling unable to do anything else, he watches as Will huddles close to Jon, says something in a whisper low enough that Tilian can’t make out the actual words. Several more moments pass, then Will turns his head to look over his shoulder, his gaze meeting Tilian’s unflinchingly.</p><p>“Leave,” Will says, his tone leaving no room for argument. Beneath the cold resolve in his eyes, Tilian can see flashes of fear and concern.  </p><p>He doesn’t need to be told twice.  </p><p>#</p><p>As much as he wants to, Tilian can’t stop thinking about what happened with Jon.</p><p>He thought that he’d forget about it, be able to brush it off or rationalize it, but the tour’s been going on for two and a half weeks now and Tilian just can’t look at Jon the same way he used to. He feels hyperaware of Jon’s presence, of all the strange quirks he noticed before but didn’t really consider too deeply, and it’s fucking with his head.</p><p>Will really wasn’t kidding about Jon being a robot.</p><p>It’s weird to admit, but it makes sense, even disregarding the incident. Jon’s social awkwardness, his absurd lyrics, his consistency when performing…It all lines up, leading to a conclusion that doesn’t do anything but raise more questions. Where did Jon come from? How does he even exist? Was he built to be in the band?</p><p>Why didn’t Tilian just become a pilot instead of continuously joining weird bands?  </p><p>All of it keeps him up at night, as well as makes it difficult to be around Jon, and Tilian knows that it’s going to start affecting his part of the band dynamic if he doesn’t do something about it soon. He also knows that it’s only a matter of time before other people start noticing that he’s acting off, too.</p><p>When he’s coming to terms with this, Tilian’s in the front lounge of the tour bus at two in the morning, already at peace with the fact that he isn’t going to sleep tonight. Usually he just lays awake in his bunk, embraces the coffinlike feeling of such a dark, enclosed space, but there’s times when the closest he can get to privacy is just too claustrophobic. It was obvious to him that if he wanted to get his thoughts sorted out, he’d need some room to breathe.</p><p>Unfortunately, that’s a lot to ask on tour.</p><p>Tilian hears someone walking through the bus before he sees them, the sound of bare feet on carpet overtaking the low hum of the bus engine. He isn’t concerned by it at first, assumes it’s just someone waking up in the middle of the night to stumble to the bathroom, but then a familiar silhouette comes into view and Tilian can practically feel his heart skip a beat.</p><p>Jon is standing at the very edge of the front lounge, glasses on and hair even more unkempt than usual. He’s staring at Tilian, who, in turn, is staring at him, and the tension building between them is so oppressive that Tilian’s worried it might just suffocate everyone on the bus.</p><p>“Can’t sleep?” Tilian asks when he can’t take the silence any longer, trying to keep his voice from shaking. He doesn’t think that robots probably even need to sleep, but it’s the first thing that comes to mind as appropriate to say in this situation.</p><p>Jon blinks once, twice, as if processing the question. “Will told you, didn’t he?”</p><p>At this, Tilian’s breath catches in the back of his throat, pupils dilating even further in the low lighting. Despite the vagueness of Jon’s words, there’s only one possible interpretation of them, and it’s unsettling for Tilian to hear someone else mention the very thoughts that’ve been haunting him for the past two weeks. It catches him so off guard, in fact, that Tilian has to take a couple seconds to get his bearings, and when he finally does speak, his voice is barely above a whisper. “Y-yeah…”</p><p>Jon doesn’t respond, not verbally at least, instead crossing the front lounge to join Tilian on the couch, where he’d been sitting with his knees pulled close to his chest. With no regard for Tilian’s personal space, Jon ends up so close that Tilian can feel the heat radiating off his body, and it makes the hair on the back of Tilian’s neck stand up.</p><p>“So, you’re leaving, then?” Jon asks once he’s settled on the couch. His voice sounds so small and vulnerable, but it’s the substance of the question itself that surprises Tilian the most.</p><p>“What do you mean?” Tilian turns his head to get a better look at Jon, who’s just staring straight ahead, gaze pointedly focused on the wall across from them.</p><p>“I make you uncomfortable, so you’re gonna leave the band,” Jon says, as if it’s obvious. “It’s happened before.”</p><p>“I-” Tilian starts to speak, then stops abruptly when he realizes what exactly Jon’s implying. That’s why the band’s lineup has always been so unstable? Because Jon being a robot made people uncomfortable? Tilian can feel his heart drop at the thought, guilt consuming him instantly. “Is that why…?”</p><p>“Partially,” Jon replies as Tilian trails off, understanding what he’s getting at. “Really, I’m still surprised they even let me back in the band at all after everything I’ve put them through.”</p><p>“Will thinks really highly of you,” Tilian says immediately, remembering how stern Will had been after telling him about Jon, the panic in his eyes when he’d found them in the green room, “and I’m sure everyone else does, too. And wasn’t the reason you left in the first place because you were sick? That’s not your fault.”</p><p>“I did have a virus,” Jon confirms, the hint of a smile on his lips. “A lot of my memory was corrupted because of it. That was part of why DBMII even happened. It was a kind of reset.” Jon sighs then, any and all happiness fading from his features. “But some things never change, y’know?”</p><p>Tilian nods. He does know.</p><p>They lapse into silence for a bit after that, just sitting together in the front lounge in the early hours of the morning and feeling like maybe they understand each other a little better now. It’s nice, comforting even. Well, it is until Tilian thinks of something that has him biting his tongue in an attempt to not laugh.</p><p>“So,” Tilian eventually says when he’s at least somewhat sure he can speak without completely dissolving into hysterics, “you’re the inspiration for the whole ‘Robot with Human Hair’ thing, huh?”</p><p>It’s this that finally gets Jon to look at Tilian again for the first time since he entered the front longue, a broad grin lighting up his face, and Tilian can feel his heart start beating faster in his chest as a response.</p><p>“The one and only.”</p><p>#</p><p>It’d be something of a misnomer to say that things go back to normal after Jon and Tilian’s heart-to-heart, mostly because it’s difficult to determine what would even constitute as “normal” in the first place.</p><p>They’re deep into the east coast leg of the tour at this point, closing in on the Miami date, as a matter of fact. There’s something about coming back to Florida that always makes Tilian feel sort of triumphant, probably because he knows that every return trip is more akin to a victory lap than an admission of defeat. Despite all the hardship he's faced in his career as a musician, including everything that's happened in just the past few weeks, nothing's been able to break him yet.</p><p>Though he’s not arrogant enough to deny that there’d been times when giving up had been a close thing, with that night Jon found him in the front lounge specifically coming to mind.</p><p>“So, you and Jon kissed and made up?” Matt asks over lunch with Tilian in some café. It’s an off day, and Tilian can only assume that the rest of the band is probably out getting wasted somewhere. They’re playing in Atlanta tomorrow, then Miami three days later.</p><p>“Shut up,” Tilian says, because he and Jon have been fine for a week now, and even though he’s aware that Matt knows about Jon being a robot, Tilian has no desire to discuss it.</p><p>Matt holds his hands up in surrender, though a smirk remains on his face. “I’m just joking, calm down.”</p><p>Tilian picks at his sandwich, refuses to look at Matt. “Whatever.”</p><p>“Y’know,” Matt says, because it apparently doesn’t matter to him that Tilian obviously doesn’t want to have this conversation, “you honestly took the news much better than I expected. People usually freak out and have meltdowns when they find out. Or get like frantic and panicky.”</p><p>“Really?”</p><p>“Really. You just needed some time to process everything, and I don’t think anyone can blame you for that. Much more understandable than being an asshole about it.”</p><p>Tilian tilts his head up to look across the table at Matt, who looks back at him with a smile. He’s completely calm, his normal demeanor, but Tilian can see something akin to appreciation shining in his eyes, as well.</p><p>For a few seconds they just sit there, neither of them saying anything, until Matt starts talking again like the extrovert he is. They don’t return to the topic of Jon or anything related to him for the remainder of the time they’re in the café, but Tilian keeps what Matt said in the back of his mind.</p><p>Even though he maybe should’ve been, it’s true that Tilian never felt angry or threatened by Jon being a robot. Surprised and confused, yes, but he didn’t see any reason to lash out toward anyone because of his emotions. His breakdown, if it could even be called that, was less about Jon and more about himself.</p><p>Whatever that means.</p><p>#</p><p>Something’s different about the Miami show, though Tilian’s not sure what.</p><p>Leading up to it, he feels kind of wired, like he can’t sit still for even a moment, and this restlessness just continues to get worse once they set foot in the venue. Anticipation is the best way to describe it, but Tilian can’t come up with a reasonable explanation for it other than the possibility that he’s just more excited to be home than he originally thought he’d be.</p><p>In the hours prior to the show, Tilian and Jon orbit around each other, talking and joking and shirking off their responsibilities, much to the chagrin of everyone else around them. It makes Tilian feel like a teenager again, causing trouble just for the sake of it. At one point he catches Matt looking at him and Jon, eyebrows raised and a knowing grin plastered across his face. Tilian flips him off, unashamed.</p><p>During their set, Tilian leaves it all on the stage, and he’s pretty sure everyone in the band, if not everyone in the entire venue, has noticed that he’s in rare form tonight. It’s far and away the best he’s sounded all tour, and it’s not like he’d ever been a slouch to begin with.</p><p>It takes him until the encore to realize that what he’s really doing is trying to show off.  </p><p>As they’re all walking backstage after the show, bathing in the afterglow of a picture-perfect performance and hopped up on adrenaline, Tilian finds himself walking next to Jon, an arm thrown over his shoulders. They’re smiling goofily at each other, and Tilian recognizes the same feeling he’d felt on the last tour, the feeling that he never wants this to end.</p><p>“Hey,” Tilian says, leaning a bit more into Jon, “You said that you don’t remember a lot from before you were sick, right?”</p><p>“Uh…yeah,” Jon replies, his voice shaking slightly with some emotion that Tilian can’t pinpoint.  </p><p>They’re so close that Tilian can see the sweat glistening in Jon’s hair, the way his pupils are dilated. None of it looks synthetic, even though Tilian innately knows that, in actuality, all of it is. Despite this understanding, however, he doesn’t want to pull away, and while part of him is screaming that this is weird and he’s weird and he should stop being weird right now, a larger part of him really doesn’t care.</p><p>“We can make new memories,” Tilian says, and he means it.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Saturn's Sundown</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>He wonders what they'd say if he told them he's going as himself.<br/>--<br/>Halloween's the one night every year that Mythics can walk the Earth uncloaked. Tilian's spending it at a costume party.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Title taken from track 3 of Anemoria's debut EP.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Tilian finally arrives at Tim’s place, it’s packed to the brim with people, some that he recognizes and most that he doesn’t.</p>
<p>This isn’t the first time Tim’s had a Halloween party, but this one is certainly much more extravagant than those from years past. Tilian has his suspicions as to why, but to be honest he’s mostly just relieved to see that the costume mandate’s being taken seriously. Well, everyone that it actually applies to is taking it seriously, anyway. A brief glance around Tim’s living room tells Tilian that quite a few of the partygoers are merely attending the event without bothering to cloak.</p>
<p>As if exemplifying this loophole, Will and Kurt are sitting next to each other on one of the various couches scattered around the room, engaged in intense conversation. A pair of white-feathered wings are pulled close to Will’s body, his golden pupils matching the light that seems to radiate out from his very presence. Other than that, he looks the same as he always does. Kurt, meanwhile, is dressed in a cheap looking cowboy outfit, complete with a hat, vest, and bandana. His figure is outlined in a soft, light blue aura, gold creeping into the edges.</p>
<p>As far as Tilian’s aware, Kurt always has been, and always will be, human, though he isn’t as confident in this notion now as he used to be. There’d never been a shortage of rumors floating around that humans in frequent close contact with Mythics could be affected by them, end up living longer than usual or become more resilient to injury and disease, but that’s all they ever were: rumors. Kurt is the first human Tilian’s ever met that’s had their own aura, let alone an aura that can shift to mimic those of nearby Mythics.  </p>
<p>He’d say Kurt’s an anomaly, but Tilian’s pretty sure that DGD’s own current token human, Tim, has recently begun developing an aura of his own, as well. Sometimes he wonders if he’s just imagining it, but other times he’s certain it’s really there, this faint white glow that holds tight to Tim’s form. It’s weaker but otherwise nearly identical to the aura of someone else he knows, and something tells Tilian that’s not a coincidence.</p>
<p>Speaking of Tim, Tilian has yet to catch a glimpse of him, though he soon realizes that might be because he’d spent the last minute or so just awkwardly lingering near the front entrance of the house. In an attempt to remedy this, he shuffles further inside, trying to at the very least not be in the way of anyone who might be walking in after him. He has half a mind to join Will and Kurt in whatever discussion they’re having merely on the basis of familiarity, but ends up deciding against it. He’ll be seeing quite a lot of the both of them soon enough, and there’s no need to overdo it.</p>
<p>After some further contemplation, Tilian eventually starts making his way toward the kitchen, if only to see just how all out Tim went on this party. He’s not looking to get completely wasted, a prospect which is infinitely more dangerous on Halloween than it would be any other night, but he also sees no problem with loosening up a bit. In his experience, extended social interaction tends to go better after he’s taken measures to stave off his chronic awkwardness, or, to be more accurate, his awareness of his chronic awkwardness.</p>
<p>As luck would have it, though, Tilian only makes it about halfway across the living room before someone steps directly into his path, causing him to nearly bowl them right over.</p>
<p>Instinctually, Tilian plants his heels, swaying a bit on his feet as he brings himself to a halt as quickly as he can. Preparing for a collision, he then puts his hands out in front of him and closes his eyes, but the impact he expects to happen never does. Once he realizes that he’d managed to stop in time, Tilian lets out a sigh of relief, reopening his eyes to find that, though he hadn’t actually hit into anyone, a stranger is still very much in his personal space.</p>
<p>The person is a woman he’s never seen before, not even in passing, and she’s short enough that he has to tilt his head down to get a good look at her, though, to be fair, he has to do that with most people. Aside from that, the most notable thing about her is that she’s wearing stereotypical witch attire, the classic black robes and pointed hat. At first he thinks that she’s being clever, but when he fails to pick up on any sort of aura, Tilian instead concludes that she’s nothing more than a clueless human.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry,” Tilian says, even though he isn’t. She walked in front of him, after all. “I should’ve been watching where I was going.”</p>
<p>“It’s alright,” the woman replies, sounding as if she’s in some sort of daze.</p>
<p>Hearing this strange lilt in her voice, Tilian narrows his eyes, craning his neck forward slightly. “Are you sure?”</p>
<p>She nods a few times in response, grinning dopily. “Your costume’s amazing,” she says, reaching out to rest one of her hands on a patch of blue-green scales on Tilian’s wrist.</p>
<p>It’s then that Tilian understands what’s happening. She isn’t hammered or stoned or some combination of the two: She’s drunk on enchantment, though Tilian can’t tell if he’d lured her in himself without meaning to or if her state is the result of some other Mythic.</p>
<p>“Oh, uh…thanks,” Tilian says, eyes darting to where she’s touching him, then back to her face. He gives her the same strained, patient smile he often finds himself giving to invasive fans, and swallows back the urge to lash out, both physically and verbally.</p>
<p>As uncomfortable as he is, however, Tilian can’t help but think about the absurdity of the whole situation.</p>
<p>If it wasn’t Halloween, the two fishlike fins protruding from the back of his arms and the larger one aligned with his spine would be a cause for concern. The gills visible on his neck and the scales haphazardly speckled across his skin would lead to stares. The ebony claws curling from the tips of his fingers and the rows of razor sharp, needlelike teeth filling his mouth would spark screams of terror.</p>
<p>But it is Halloween, so nothing’s out of the ordinary.</p>
<p>The woman’s grin widens, her eyes glassy, and Tilian can feel her hand sliding over his skin, fingers trying to link with his own. In response, Tilian’s muscles all tense simultaneously, and he almost frantically glances around the living room, looking for a way out.</p>
<p>And as if by the grace of a higher power, he finds his escape route in a brief glimpse of familiar white horns entering the room from the kitchen.</p>
<p>“Well, um, it was nice meeting you, but I’m gonna go catch up with one of my friends now,” Tilian says, fully aware that he still doesn’t even know this woman’s name. Not that the details of what Tilian’s saying really matter: his words are much less important than the melodic tone that’s crept into his voice.</p>
<p>Siren compulsion is where the idea of being silver tongued came from, after all.</p>
<p>The woman pouts at the excuse, but Tilian’s compulsion allows him to untangle himself from her grasp and brush past her without much difficulty. Finally freed from that mess, Tilian then proceeds to beeline straight for Jon, who, as expected, has settled in the corner, far away from anyone else.</p>
<p>As he approaches, Tilian feels more than sees Jon’s gaze on him. Between the off the wall personality, the blank, white eyes, and the tears of blood endlessly streaked across his face, Jon isn’t the easiest to get a read on, but Tilian feels like he’s gotten a better handle on doing so over the years. Jon’s ashen, leathery skin and bright red aura in particular tend to make others wary of him, like he’s liable to snap and go on a rampage at any moment, but Tilian likes to think of Jon’s appearance as more of a deterrent, a façade, than an actual indication of a threat.</p>
<p>“Hey,” Tilian says once he’s directly in front of Jon, nodding at him in acknowledgment.</p>
<p>“Hey,” Jon repeats, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly. There’s an orange and black striped solo cup in each of his clawed hands, and he offers the one in his left to Tilian, who wordlessly accepts. “You look like you’ve been enjoying yourself.”</p>
<p>Tilian groans, shakes his head slowly. As he does, he can hear Jon attempting to stifle his laughter, which seems strange until it doesn’t. Coming to a sudden realization, Tilian fixes Jon with a glare, expression shifting from anguished to entirely unamused.</p>
<p>“That was you, wasn’t it?” Tilian asks, jerking his head in the direction of where his encounter with the enchantment drunk woman had transpired.</p>
<p>Jon shrugs, the mischievous smile stretching across his features revealing a selection of sharpened fangs. “Maybe.”</p>
<p>Tilian rolls his eyes and huffs out a breath. He’s known Jon long enough that occurrences like this never surprise him anymore, but that doesn’t change the fact that Jon’s still the most persistent chaos demon Tilian’s ever had the displeasure of being around. Most chaos demons tend to be indiscriminate about whose emotions they fuck with, but Jon seems to enjoy targeting Tilian in particular, because of course he does. It’d be flattering if it wasn’t so annoying.</p>
<p>In an effort to really sell his irritation, Tilian looks away from Jon and takes a swig of the drink he’d been handed. The taste is an intense mixture of cinnamon, pumpkin, whisky, and some inherent underlying magic that makes it feel like he’s swallowed a sparkler. If Tilian had to guess, he’d probably say that it’s one of Franzino’s concoctions, though it could be the work of any witch, in actuality, and though the drink isn’t entirely unpleasant, the unexpected strength of it does send Tilian into a minor coughing fit all the same.</p>
<p>At this, Jon starts laughing again, his delight at Tilian’s discomfort now completely unrestrained. After a few moments, however, Jon’s chuckling dies down, and he clears his throat, a slightly more serious air surrounding him.</p>
<p>“Donny’s looking for you, by the way,” Jon says, taking a much more measured sip of his own drink.</p>
<p>In response, Tilian’s brow furrows, his gaze moving to meet Jon’s. “Really? Did he say why?”</p>
<p>Jon shakes his head. “No. It seemed important, though.”</p>
<p>Tilian nods, filing this new information into the back of his mind. He hasn’t spoken to Donny in a bit, but it looks like tonight might be his chance to remedy that.</p>
<p>Like usual, Tilian ends up hanging out with Jon until he finishes his drink, the two of them idly chatting about whatever comes to mind. Despite how much they seem to piss one another off, lingering around each other is a pretty standard procedure for Tilian and Jon. For all of Tilian’s dramatics, he does actually like Jon, knows the chemistry they have together is like lightning in a bottle; they’re more friendly rivals than archnemeses constantly at each other’s throats. The typical dual vocalist dynamic, really.</p>
<p>When he finally parts from Jon, Tilian immediately starts making his rounds, wandering from room to room with his eyes peeled for Donny, who’s apparently more elusive than Tilian thought. While his search is unfortunately fruitless, though, it does reunite him with quite a few people he hadn’t seen in a while. The pros of this just barely win out over the cons of being dragged into a ridiculous amount of conversations with strangers that go nowhere and leave him feeling even more awkward than he normally does.</p>
<p>Eventually, Tilian finds himself out on the balcony of Tim’s house, smoking a cigarette in an attempt to calm his nerves. Regardless of how young the night is, part of Tilian already wants to go home and spend the rest of it high out of his mind in his hot tub. Guilt gnaws at him for this selfish thinking, but his reasoning for going through with leaving early is sound enough: If Donny really needs to talk to him, he can call or text like everyone else.</p>
<p>Even so, this inner conflict still apparently puts Tilian in his head enough that he almost doesn’t notice that he’s no longer alone.</p>
<p>He sees the newcomer’s hand first, held out in an unmistakable silent request for a cigarette. Tilian obliges, a smile slowly spreading across his face as he turns his head to look at the person who’d joined him out on the balcony.</p>
<p>In a single, smooth motion, Donny takes the cigarette from Tilian, snapping his fingers to light it before taking a long drag. As he exhales, the smoke swirling in the air in front of him, Donny grins back at Tilian, elongated canines gleaming in the moonlight. He’s dressed in his standard all black attire, bright pink and deep purple embroiled in an endless war for control of his aura. When his gaze meets Tilian’s, a ring of lavender is visible around his pupils, standing out against the normal dark brown of his irises. Of course, all of this pales in comparison, however, to the pair of brilliantly blue ram horns protruding from his skull, the color of them making it look as if they’d been carved from sapphire.</p>
<p>Donny’s what Mythics usually refer to as an intemperate demon: a demon committed to more than one circle of Hell. He’s caught between lust and violence, which explains his unorthodox appearance, especially his dualistic aura. This probably also at least partially accounts for the menacing strength Donny hides beneath his often kind and unassuming nature. From what Tilian’s been told, in fact, there’s only one demon in the scene more powerful than Donny, and Tilian hasn’t ever actually met him. Though, considering the stories that’ve been circulating, that’s probably a good thing. </p>
<p>“How’ve you been?” Donny asks, flicking the ash off his cigarette.</p>
<p>Tilian laughs, leans on the balcony railing. “Busy. Just like you, I’m sure.”</p>
<p>Donny’s smile widens. “Always. You guys still working on that new album?”</p>
<p>“Yep. We’re hoping it’ll be done by early next year to coincide with the tour.”</p>
<p>Donny nods in understanding, and Tilian can see his jaw clench out of the corner of his eye. “Veil Of Maya’s opening for that tour, right?”</p>
<p>Tilian blinks, wonders what that has to do with anything. “Yeah. Is that a problem?”</p>
<p>Donny sighs, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “Yes and no. It could be nothing, but there’s been some rumors regarding that vocalist they brought in a couple years back, Lukas. Veil’s been a staple all-human band for years, and if it’s true that Lukas is a Mythic pretending to blend in with his human bandmates, I can only imagine how bad the fallout will be.”</p>
<p>“I’m guessing this is what you wanted to talk about,” Tilian says, taking a drag of his cigarette. “Have you told Will yet?”</p>
<p>Donny shakes his head. “Last time I talked to him, he said he’s been having the dreams again. I don’t wanna risk interfering with his interpretations.”</p>
<p>“But you are willing to possibly ruin an entire tour dynamic over gossip?”</p>
<p>Donny flinches at the accusation, the cold edge in Tilian’s voice cutting him like a knife. “Tilian–”</p>
<p>“I know, I know,” Tilian interrupts, putting his hand up. “I’m sorry, I just…are you suggesting that we kick them off the tour?”</p>
<p>“No,” Donny says, turning his body so that he’s fully facing Tilian, “I’m just asking you to be careful. I don’t want you guys getting caught in the crossfire if something happens.”</p>
<p>“Okay,” Tilian says, pointedly looking anywhere but at Donny. He’s aware that he’s being petty, but also can’t help but be upset about what he’s been told.</p>
<p>Donny waits for a few moments after this response, expecting something more, but Tilian remains silent. Realizing that he’s done all he can, Donny proceeds to put out his cigarette, pats Tilian on the shoulder a couple times. “Alright, well, you have a good night, man. I’ll see you around.”</p>
<p>Tilian doesn’t turn to watch Donny walk away, just smokes his cigarette and listens to Donny’s receding footsteps as he disappears back into Tim’s house. Staring out into the dark night, full moon ablaze in the sky, Tilian isn’t sure exactly what to think. He knows Donny’s just looking out from them like they’ve always looked out for him and the rest of Hail The Sun, but Mythic politics and the way they tend to destroy friendships before they can even begin have always been frustrating to Tilian. If he’s lucky, this’ll be one of the instances where they’re just being overcautious, where everything turns out fine when it comes down to it.</p>
<p>Whether or not that ends up being the truth, however, one thing’s for sure: Next year’s going to be interesting.</p>
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